Zone Defence
by csiAngel
Summary: GC The best offence is a good defence


Title: Zone Defence

Rating: PG

Summary: The best offence is a good defence…

Disclaimer: I do not own the CSI peeps, they belong to the wonderful PTB and actors who portray the characters. I am simply borrowing them, and make no money whatsoever from my endeavours.

Author's Note: This is my letter Z for the alphabet challenge. One really awkward letter down, X to go. This takes place a few days or so after the season three finale – Inside the Box.

You can tell by the unamused look on his face that this is not the first room he came to. He's definitely encountered the others, and you inwardly smile with pride – because the fact that he's here means that they didn't give in. You were, after all, proactive, and told them exactly what would happen if they gave one inch. And you like to believe you're scarier than he is.

"Gil, hey!" you smile, as he closes the door behind him. "What are you doing here?"

Still looking highly unimpressed he remains by the door, and curtly responds: "I work here."

You let your smile convert to a serious expression. "You should be resting."

"I feel fine," he says.

"That's irrelevant. You're still supposed to be resting… How long have you been here?" you ask, your eyes fixed on him, face telling him you mean business.

"About fifteen minutes," he replies, refusing to squirm under your piercing gaze.

"Oh… So you didn't come straight to your office? … Like you normally do? Could that be because I warned you that there would be trouble if you set one foot in here?" You're standing now, it seemed like a better position to be in to enforce your authority.

A twitch of his eyes is the only sign he gives that your words are having an effect on him. "And I told you, I work here."

You tilt your head to one side, a sarcastically intrigued smile pasted across your lips, and you walk slowly towards him. "So, why aren't you working?… You knew I would be in here – I told you I would be in here – you needn't have come to your office, I would have been none the wiser about your presence. You could have helped Warrick in trace… Or would he not let you?… You could have pestered Greg in DNA… Or did he throw you out?… What about Sara? You could have helped her in the layout room… Or you could have discussed Nick's latest case with him in the break room, or taken a look at the video footage from that casino robbery in AV… Or are all those rooms being well-guarded too?" you smirk as you finish your list and you stop immediately in front of him.

"You've been busy," he says.

"I knew you wouldn't stay away," you say, disappointment in your tone and your eyes.

He looks at you apologetically. "I'm bored," he says with a small shrug.

You nod, understandingly. "I know… But you've only got a few days to go – "

"Exactly so – "

You place the tips of your fingers across his lips to silence him. "It's best to take your doctor's advice, rather than risk complications… I, for one, would like it if you were back at work next week," you smile.

You are wondering why he doesn't have a response to that, when his hand wraps around yours, and you realise your fingers were still on his lips. You flush a little and try to pull it back, but he doesn't let go. Instead he lowers it slowly with his, and holds it against his chest.

"Yeah, right," he comments, "You're loving being in charge."

Your brow is furrowed a little, wondering what is going on with the hand holding, but he seems to be ignoring it, so you figure you should too – if you could just convince your rapidly beating heart, and reeling mind of that. You focus as hard as you can to remember what the conversation is about, and then shrug: "Well, maybe on some level." You laugh a little, and try again to move your hand, but he holds it tighter, and takes a step towards you.

"Thank you," he says, softly, his fingers lightly playing with yours.

"For what?" you frown, determinedly avoiding looking at your entwined hands.

"For looking after me… For making me follow doctor's orders… Even if I am bored to tears."

You smile. "Well, you're welcome… Although my reasons aren't completely selfless," you admit.

"I knew it!" he exclaims, shaking his head, slowly. "And I bet you've done such a wonderful job they won't want me back…"

You grin, flattered as he intended. "I doubt it… Anyway, I wouldn't want your job – too much paperwork."

"Then what are these selfish reasons you have for getting everyone to take arms against me?"

"They've hardly taken arms," you laugh. "They're just helping me look out for your best interests."

"You didn't see Greg brandishing that microscope," he smirks.

"Actually… he gave me a demonstration earlier… He can be quite frightening."

"Yes he can… But don't change the subject… What's in it for you to keep me away from here?"

"I'm not trying to keep you away… Well, I am, but not like that… I want to make sure you'll definitely be well enough to come back next week… Because the performance reviews are due and – " At his reprimanding look, you steer back towards the subject at hand. "… Because the place isn't the same without you… You've been here practically every day for the last twenty years that I've worked here, and… I don't know… I feel like I don't function properly when you're not here."

And there's that smirk that makes your knees go weak. "So, you miss me?"

"Yeah… I guess I do."

"Good," he says, stepping closer once more.

"Good, as in at least I won't be after your job?" you grin, trying to ignore the fact that he is now well inside your personal space, and that that is playing havoc with your heart and breathing rates.

"No… Good… as in… I miss you too… Even though," he continues, finding your hand that hangs loosely beside you with his free hand, "It's been less than twelve hours since I last saw you."

"Ah, well, see, I miss you on a professional level," you laugh nervously.

"Only on a professional level?" he practically whispers.

Okay, you can feel his breath on your lips when he talks, you definitely can't ignore his proximity any longer. "Gil?" you say, hoping the warning tone you were going for got through.

"Catherine?" he mocks you.

"What are we doing?"

"I would have thought that was obvious." His arm has found its way to your back, and he's pulling your body towards him.

"This could complicate a whole lot of things…" Your voice shakes as you speak.

He shrugs. "Life's too short to not take chances."

"The powers that be might not be impressed…"

"Catherine?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you actually bothered about these things, or are you just rambling because it makes you nervous to have me so close to you?"

Your eyes widen at the fact that he even said that, and then you surrender. "The latter."

He nods. "Do you want me to move away?"

You shake your head and whisper, "No," before leaning forwards and meeting his lips with yours.

You taste and explore as your hands hook over his shoulders, and his wrap around your back, pulling your bodies flush together. As his hands slip under the hem of your shirt and massage gently around your spine, he expertly manoeuvres so that you are the one backed against the door. His hands move higher, your shirt going with them, and the metal behind you is freezing against your heated skin, startling you from the moment.

"Er, Gil?" you sound, breaking the kiss.

"Mmm?" he mumbles as he simply moves his kisses along your neck in the absence of your lips.

"What if somebody comes in?"

"They won't," he assures you confidently, pulling back to look at you. "For two reasons: one, you are standing against the door… and two, they have their little zones to defend, and if you threatened them with what Greg told me you threatened them with, then they won't be moving til they know I've left the premises."

THE END


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